


Warmth Returned

by Wandering_Channeler



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-23 06:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30051243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wandering_Channeler/pseuds/Wandering_Channeler
Summary: Disease has struck Urithiru, and Kaladin is worked ragged. Luckily, he has Adolin and Syl for support. Shallan also might come in at some point. This is a cannon divergent AU that takes place after RoW. Be ware of spoilers, implied or otherwise.
Relationships: Adolin and Syl, Kaladin and Syl, Kaladin/Adolin Kholin
Comments: 15
Kudos: 10





	1. Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> I started this mostly to satisfy my own need for yet more Kadolin content. I do want to write more after this, but I have no idea how soon more will come. It’ll depend on how much writer’s block and/or imposter syndrome I experience. I hope people like this. I’m not good at relationship development, so Kaladin and Adolin have already been an established thing for at least a year by the start of this. There will still be wholesome content, and I’m planning a couple of developments that will hopefully keep it interesting. :)

Adolin sat in his room, intently looking through his most recent fashion book. It seemed that the styles were trending toward more daring clothing, rather than the more conservative choices which had been previously favored. He ran an absent hand through his hair as he studied the images and glyphs thoughtfully. If this was accurate, he’d need to change his wardrobe accordingly. True, he mostly wore uniforms, but he couldn’t be completely unfashionable. He could make changes and adjustments to his uniforms that would reflect the newest trends. Now he just had to figure out how to do that, especially with his father constantly breathing down his neck. He felt his thoughtful expression change to one of irritation as the thought of his father crossed his mind, so he was glad when he heard the door to his suite of rooms open and close. That couldn’t be Shallan. She usually entered more enthusiastically, and even if Radiant was currently in control, it didn’t sound like her either. Radiant always entered with a more reserved opening and closing of the door, as if even something that mundane could somehow have stipulations that needed to be strictly followed at all times. Adolin found himself smiling. If it wasn’t Shallan or Radiant, then there was only one person whose entry could fit. Sure enough, he heard firm footsteps approaching.

“I’m in here, Kal,” he called, unable to keep the smile from his voice. There was no verbal response, but Adolin had mostly gotten used to that by this time. The door to his room opened a few seconds later. He looked up, smiling warmly. Even after over a year of officially dating, the sight of Kaladin still caused Adolin’s heart to skip a beat. His strong face, with those intense eyes, surrounded by dark, wavy hair which was currently up in a tail, never failed to make Adolin feel like the luckiest man on all of Roshar. It didn’t even matter that Kaladin was still wearing his most unfashionable scrubs. He was beautiful anyway. At this moment, Kaladin looked absolutely exhausted. He was probably trying to hide it, but Adolin knew the signs by now. It showed in the shadows under Kal’s eyes, in the way his gaze was slightly unfocused, dulling some of the sharp intensity that usually showed there, in the way Kaladin held himself too stiffly, as if trying to keep himself upright by sheer force of will, and in other ways that were harder to define. Adolin could just tell that Kal was near the verge of collapse. Any other man would have admitted his need for rest much earlier, but not Kaladin Stormblessed. Kal always needed to prove that he could do more, push himself farther, and save more people than anyone else. 

Adolin knew that Kal still thought he wasn’t doing anywhere near enough, especially with this new outbreak of sickness that was spreading through the tower, but Adolin also knew that Kaladin didn’t have a realistic view of himself. That dichotomy between Kal’s complete selflessness and his constant insistence that he still wasn’t doing enough was just one of the things that attracted Adolin to him so strongly. He had gotten better since swearing his fourth ideal as a Windrunner, but Kal still had his bad days. As he always reminded Adolin, the ideals didn’t fix radiants. All they did was fill the cracks with something stronger. That didn’t keep the cracks from showing, especially on days like this. 

Without a word, Adolin stood and approached Kaladin. The other man took an involuntary step back, falling into a defensive stance. Even after all this time, his self-preservation instinct was still strong. Adolin waited until the other man relaxed somewhat, then closed the remaining distance between them. When he got close enough, Adolin reached out and rested a hand on Kal’s shoulder.

“Come in,” he said softly. “You look like you need to decompress.” Kal hesitated, then entered the room silently. He was usually quiet, but this silence felt different. So this had been a bad day. Adolin sighed internally, closing the door behind them and preparing himself. He truly didn’t mind helping Kaladin through his darker moments, but it could be emotionally exhausting at times. Still, the way Kaladin eventually opened up to him and showed the deeper aspects of himself that Adolin knew were hidden to almost everyone else made the effort worth it. Adolin gently guided Kaladin to another chair in the room, and the other man sat with an involuntary groan. He sat for a time, staring into space, then finally slumped forward, dropping his face into his hands. “Do you want to talk about it?” Adolin asked gently. Kal grunted, but didn’t answer right away. Just when Adolin started to think that no answer would come, Kaladin finally spoke.

“We lost four more patients today,” he said. His voice was flat, but Adolin had learned to pick out the pain and exhaustion that hid beneath. Adolin knelt down in front of Kal and laid a hand on one of his knees. He didn’t speak immediately. Rather, he let his presence be enough. He had learned that words couldn’t always help, but simply being there could. Kal eventually sighed, lifting his head to meet Adolin’s eyes with his own. Storms those eyes were beautiful. It didn’t matter if they were dark or light. Those intense eyes of Kal’s were captivating. “I did everything I could to help. They still died. I know I couldn’t save them, and I accept that. It still hurts.”

“I’d be worried if it didn’t hurt.” Kal didn’t respond to that. “Kaladin,” Adolin said seriously, maintaining their eye contact, “don’t you think that acceptance also implies letting go of some of the guilt you feel?” Kal sighed again. This was a recurring conversation between the two of them, and Adolin knew that Syl also reminded Kaladin of this. Still, there seemed to be something different about Adolin’s reminders.

“I know you’re right,” Kal said, “but it’s not that easy. My father always made it seem as if there was some kind of switch I could turn on and off at will to control my emotions, but that’s never been how I work. Even accepting that I couldn’t save those people doesn’t take away the emotions I feel at their deaths. I can’t turn that off like everyone seems to expect me to be able to do.”

“I don’t expect you to turn off your emotions.”

“Don’t you?” A hint of challenge entered Kal’s voice. Adolin maintained eye contact, letting his faith in his boyfriend show.

“I expect you to do your best. I expect you to try to the absolute extremities of your skill to save people. I expect you to care for them in the way only you can. But,” he tapped Kal’s knee for emphasis, “I do not expect you to be unfeeling. I do not expect you to be heartless. I don’t even expect you to have the same detachment as your father.” Kal wince slightly at that, but Adolin reached out and grabbed his chin as he tried to look down, not letting him break their prolonged eye contact. “I expect you to be yourself.” Kal frowned slightly.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything!” Adolin exclaimed. “I don’t expect you to do any of those things because if you did, you wouldn’t be who you are. You would be far less genuine, far less caring, and far less…” he searched for the right word, but eventually ended his statement with a weak, “Kal.” That actually brought out a ghost of a grin from the other man. Adolin cherished every such expression he could coax out of his boyfriend. He encouraged that slight smile with one of his own, but Kaladin’s brief expression of levity didn’t last. Rather, it settled back into his customary scowl. Adolin sighed quietly to himself. He’d hoped that would work.

“Kaladin,” Adolin said intently. That got the Windrunner’s full attention. Adolin rarely used his boyfriend’s full name so firmly. “I believe in you. You can do this.” Kal held his eyes for a protracted moment, then finally let out a long breath, seeming to relax fully for the first time since he had entered Adolin’s room. The other man closed his eyes and rested his head against his chair’s backrest.

“Can I?” He seemed to truly be seeking for an answer.

“You can,” Adolin said confidently. Kal eventually opened his eyes and met Adolin’s own. He seemed to search Adolin’s expression with a desperate intensity. Whatever he saw must have convinced him somewhat, because he closed his eyes again and let his head fall back in exhaustion.

“I’ve been telling him the same things all day,” an unexpected voice said to Adolin’s left. He started in surprise and looked in that direction. Syl, Kaladin’s Honorspren, had made herself visible to him. She was frowning at him in apparent confusion and irritation. He noticed with approval that she was still wearing the sleeker, more fashionable outfit he had recommended to her. “Why can you make him change when I can’t?” This seemed to truly bother her. “I’ve come to understand him more over the past year and a half, but I still can’t make him talk to me in the way you do. Why are you different? What am I doing wrong?” Adolin searched her small face for a timeless moment. She truly did care. He already knew that, of course, but periodic confirmations were nice. He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Honestly,” he said, “I’m not sure. I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong.” The frown which had already been on her face deepened.

“If I’m not doing anything wrong,” she said in a small voice, “why can I not help him? Why can I not make him feel better like you do?” Her form seemed to shrink in on itself until she appeared to be barely half her usual size.

“Syl,” he said firmly, “you help him more than you know.” She looked up, clearly still questioning. “You’re closer to him than just about anyone else. In some ways, you’re closer to him than even I am. You have a connection to him that I can’t imagine, and that allows you to know him better than even I can. You and I both know what he needs, and we can meet those needs in different ways.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that he can confide in you in ways that he can’t with me, even after everything we’ve experienced together. The bond the two of you share is truly special. If you hadn’t been there for him, he wouldn’t be here right now.” That made her think. She slowly met his eyes with her tiny ones, then seemed to gain more confidence.

“I know you’re right,” she said, “but I still think I should do more.”

“He’s rubbing off on you,” Adolin noted with an amused snort. Syl hesitated, then gave a sudden laugh of her own.

“You’re right,” she said, seemingly cheerful all of a sudden. Adolin intended to question her sudden optimism, but before he could, Kal opened his eyes again.

“He can hear everything the two of you are saying about him, you know,” the former bridgeman said wryly. That, added to Adolin’s worry over his boyfriend and Syl’s equal concern, made him burst out into unexpected laughter. Kal didn’t laugh with him, but did grace him with another faint suggestion of a smile. Adolin quickly sobered.

“I mean it, Syl,” he said to the spren. “I think Kal often needs to be reminded of things in different ways. You remind him in your way, and I remind him in mine. Together, we do what we can to support him. It’s up to Kal to figure out what to do with that support.” Adolin looked pointedly at Kaladin, who looked away. A moment later, he looked back and nodded. He knew Adolin was right. Adolin glanced toward Syl, who also nodded. She seemed to believe him. “Now, have you eaten today, Kal?” The other man glanced down, but didn’t answer.

“No he has not,” Syl said, putting her hands on her hips. “I told him to eat, but he said he was too busy.”

“They needed me in the clinic,” Kal said.

“Other people work there, Kal,” Adolin pointed out. Kal scowled.

“I know that. I just… I wasn’t hungry.” Adolin raised a skeptical eyebrow, but didn’t argue the point further.

“That settles it then,” he said. “We’re getting you food, then you’re going to sleep.”

“But I -” Kal began.

“But nothing,” Adolin interrupted. “You need to take care of yourself, Kal. I won’t let you go hungry and without rest.” Kal let out an irritated breath, but didn’t object. He probably knew that Adolin was right, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“Fine,” he muttered.

“Do you want to go out and eat, or do you want to eat here?” Kal shrugged. “I need an answer, Kal.”

The other man shrugged again, but said, “Here is fine.”

“Alright,” Adolin said. “I’ll make you something.”

“I can help,” Kal said, starting to push himself out of the chair. Adolin placed a firm hand on his shoulder and forced him back down.

“No,” he said sternly. “You’re going to sit right there and rest while I make you something.” Kal glared up at him for a moment, then gave a reluctant nod and relaxed somewhat. “Good.” Adolin walked out of the room. As he left, he heard Kaladin mutter something under his breath, just loud enough for Adolin to hear.

“Storming man.” Adolin grinned broadly and continued out of the room. Coming from Kal, that statement was equivalent to a declaration of love. Adolin went to the kitchen area of his suite and pulled out ingredients to make Kal’s meal.

***************

Kaladin sat in his chair in Adolin’s room and allowed himself to feel just how exhausted he was. Maybe it was good that Adolin had insisted that he stay put. He had been working in the clinic nonstop for the past 20 hours, and had barely had time to breathe, let alone eat or rest. Only stormlight had kept him going for so long. As he thought of it, he realized that he was still holding a small amount of light. It was probably the only thing keeping him awake right now. He knew that Syl, Adolin, Shallan, his parents, and literally everyone else who knew of his existence was worried about him, but he could handle this. Yes, things were bad, but at least his exhaustion kept some of the nightmares away whenever he did sleep. Still, he grudgingly admitted to himself that it was nice to let Adolin take care of him. I really need to appreciate him more, he thought.

“Kaladin?” Syl said quietly. He looked up at her.

“Hmm?”

“Are you ok, really?” He could vaguely feel her concern for him. Their bond was so much stronger now than it had once been. He let out a long breath and relaxed more fully into the chair, closing his eyes again.

“I’m…” How was he anyway? He had been focused on saving as many of his patients as possible that he had almost forgotten about himself. He knew that wasn’t completely healthy, but it was just how he was. As he thought about it, he acknowledged the despair tugging at his mind. He accepted that he had been unable to protect those people, but it storming hurt anyway. That, combined with the long, grueling hours he’d been working lately, was taking a toll on him. “This is wearing me down, Syl,” he admitted. “This has been going on for five months now, and people are still getting sick at an incredible rate. What happens if those of us working in the clinics get sick? Who will care for the caregivers? Everything seems… hopeless at the moment.” He felt a slight touch on his right arm, and cracked an eye open to see Syl lying there, wrapping her arms around his. He closed his eye and gave her a slight smile. That was the best he could manage at the moment.

“How can I help you?” She asked softly. He sighed.

“I don’t know, Syl. You being with me helps a lot. I know you care, and that also helps.”

“You’re still pushing yourself too hard.”

“I have to. The clinic needs as many people there as possible at all times of day, and I’m one of the best we have. I need to use my skills to help these people.”

“You do help, but does that mean anything if you run yourself into the ground helping them? If you work yourself to the point of being unable to work anymore, is all the help you gave really worth it?” He hesitated. He supposed she had a point, but it wasn’t that easy for him. He knew he would feel guilty if he slacked off in his work, even if it was to take better care of himself. Storms, even now, with him barely able to stay awake after working for a full day straight, he still felt guilty that he wasn’t doing more. “You’re only human, Kaladin,” Syl whispered. “Stormlight can only keep you going for so long. Take care of yourself… Please?” He hesitated for a long moment, then reluctantly nodded. Over a year ago, he had made a promise to start taking better care of himself. He had slacked off on that lately, but he would try to do better.

“I’ll try,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said earnestly.

A few minutes later, Kaladin heard Adolin reenter the room. “Are you still awake, Kal?” Adolin asked quietly. Kaladin pried his eyes open, only then realizing how close he had been to sleep.

“Barely,” he said, yawning. Adolin gave one of those smiles of his. It was a smile that always made Kaladin’s world seem brighter. He’d thought that when Tien had died, he had taken the light of Kaladin’s life with him. He’d thought that things would always be darker and emptier as they had been since his brother’s death. Then, Adolin Kholin had come into his life, and had brought light and warmth with him. Things always seemed a little more manageable when Adolin was around. Kaladin blinked, realizing that he had been staring. Adolin’s smile widened. He handed Kaladin a plate of food, which he took gratefully.

“Here you go,” Adolin said. “I hope you like it.” Adolin walked to the side of the room, where he had several pitchers of wine. He poured a cup of sapphire for himself, and a cup of orange for Kaladin. He brought the drinks over and handed Kaladin’s cup to him. Kaladin nodded his thanks as he took the cup and began eating. Adolin sat at his desk and started flipping through the book resting there. Kaladin had overlooked that earlier.

He swallowed a bite of food (it really was good) and said, “More fashion?” Adolin looked up, grinning.

“Of course,” he said. We can’t all go around looking like that. He gestured to Kaladin’s clothing. Kaladin looked down at his scrubs, confused.

“Looking like what?”

“Ah Kal,” Adolin laughed, “your complete obliviousness to fashion is astounding.” Kaladin found himself smiling back. It was his first real smile in a long time. “Anyway, I don’t want to distract you from eating. You need the food.” Kaladin nodded and returned to his meal.

Once he finished eating, Adolin stood and took the plate from him. “How was it?”

“It was good,” Kaladin said truthfully. Adolin grinned.

“Good.” He left the room with the plate, then came back a moment later. Kaladin thought that the other man was going to order him to go to bed right away, but instead, he dragged the chair he had been sitting in earlier next to Kaladin’s, then sat, sprawling out and clearly getting comfortable.

They sat in silence for a time, which was perfectly fine with Kaladin. It was good to be in a quiet, calm environment after the chaos of the clinic. Eventually, Adolin reached over and took his hand. Kaladin tightened his grip, returning the comfortable, familiar gesture. “Do you need to talk about anything?” Adolin finally asked, still holding Kaladin’s hand. 

Kaladin thought. 

He thought of the four people who he had seen die over the past day. He thought of dozens of others who were sick enough to need to go to the clinic. He thought of the hundreds or thousands of others who were sick, but didn’t need immediate care. He thought of precautions taken to try and slow the spread of the disease. He thought of his worries about his friends and family getting sick. He thought of all these things, but didn’t want to talk about them at the moment. It was good to have some separation between him and his worries. He could talk about them later. Syl was right. He needed to pay more attention to his own needs, and right now, all he needed was to relax and be with Adolin. Kaladin shook his head.

“Not now,” he said. Adolin glanced over, clearly reading Kaladin’s face. There was true concern in the other man’s eyes, and Kaladin loved him for it.

“Alright,” Adolin said after a moment. “Do you need anything else?” Kaladin shook his head again.

“Just this,” he said softly. Adolin smiled warmly at that, and squeezed Kaladin’s hand. Kaladin returned the squeeze, then closed his eyes again, allowing himself to be content.

***************

Adolin sat next to Kaladin, holding his hand for several minutes longer, smiling faintly. The other man still looked absolutely exhausted, but he didn’t look as run down or hopeless as he had before. Adolin loved that Kaladin was able to relax and be, if not happy, then at least comfortable around him. Adolin still remembered how long it had taken Kaladin to finally start opening up fully to him, so he treasured every time Kal let his true self show. He also cherished Kaladin saying that all he needed was to be with Adolin. Adolin smiled at Kal, who was beginning to breathe deeply with sleep. He hated to disturb the other man, but he also figured that Kal wouldn’t want to sleep in a chair all night. He let go of Kal’s hand and gently shook his shoulder. Kal groaned and groggily opened his eyes.

“What?” He said thickly. Adolin took the other man’s hand again and gently kissed the back of it.

“You need to go to bed,” he said. Kal blinked drowsily.

“What’s wrong with here?”

“I figured that you wouldn’t want to sleep in a chair all night. That wouldn’t be very comfortable.” Kal grunted, but eventually pushed himself to his feet. He swayed slightly, so Adolin stood and offered Kal his support. The other man hesitated, then leaned into Adolin as they walked toward the bed. Kaladin had his own room in the suite, but this was closer. Plus, Adolin and Kaladin had slept in the same bed before, so it wasn’t an issue. Adolin also figured that Kal wouldn’t want to be alone as he slept. The other man didn’t complain as they reached the bed, so Adolin must have been right about that. Kal sat on the edge of the bed, and Adolin sat next to him.

“Thank you,” Kaladin said suddenly.

“For what?”

“For being yourself.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Adolin said, echoing Kal’s words from earlier. Kal gave him a glare, but the other man’s clear exhaustion ruined the effect. Adolin just laughed and pulled Kal into an embrace. The other man returned the gesture, relaxing into Adolin’s chest. Finally, Adolin let go and said, “You’re welcome, Kaladin.” Kal gave a small smile, then laid back on the bed, closing his eyes. Adolin sat on its edge for a time, watching as Kaladin relaxed and began snoring softly. Storms he loved that man. Finally, Adolin stood and returned to his desk to try and figure out how he was going to adjust his uniform to fit the current style.


	2. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaladin has a nightmare, and Adolin reassures him. There’s more soft, wholesome content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter filled with fluff. I promise I’ll try to make things more interesting in the next chapter. I just love these two so much, and I love imagining these kinds of sweet interactions between them.

Several hours later, Adolin woke to Kaladin thrashing in his sleep. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but it hadn’t been this bad in a while. Kal twisted and turned, sweating and muttering, tangling the blankets around himself. Adolin reached out and tried to brush Kal’s hair away from his face, but the other man was too restless for that. Adolin sat up and braced himself, then firmly shook Kaladin’s shoulder. As expected, the Windrunner woke with a start, bringing his hands up defensively. His eyes soon focused, and he relaxed somewhat, lowering his arms.

“Adolin?” Kal asked, still more asleep than awake.

“I’m here, Kaladin,” he said gently. “It was just a dream. You’re safe with me.” Kal stared at him for a long moment, then closed his eyes again. Adolin could tell that he was still tense, however. Gently, carefully, he brushed Kal’s sweaty hair back from his face. Adolin was acutely aware of the texture of the other man’s skin and hair, especially the place on Kal’s forehead where the slave brands used to be. Those had disappeared over a year ago, but the unblemished skin still filled Adolin with awe. Once Kal’s hair was pushed back, Adolin continued running his fingers through it, enjoying its soft, curly texture. 

“Why do you stay with me, Adolin?” Kal asked unexpectedly. Adolin took a moment to truly think of how he would answer that question. He knew that his boyfriend needed honest, yet comforting words at the moment.

“I stay with you because you’re amazing,” Adolin started. Kaladin frowned and made as if to respond, but Adolin didn’t give him the chance. “I stay with you because you care more than anyone else I’ve known. I stay with you because you do absolutely everything you can to help others, even if helping them should be impossible. Storms, bridgeboy, I’ve seen you save people who should have died before they even reached you. Still, you somehow managed to protect them.” Kaladin shook his head and again made as if to speak, but Adolin interrupted him for a second time, speaking softer now. “I stay with you because you’re beautiful.” He took a deep breath. Saying this next part was going to be hard. He had told Kal this before, but the other man’s reactions were never predictable. “I stay with you because I love you,” he whispered. Kal opened his eyes at that, frowning more deeply. He didn’t object immediately, however, which was usually a good sign. 

“How…” Kal asked after a moment, his voice more rough than usual, “how can you still…” he swallowed, “still love me? I’m broken, Adolin. Even with Syl and the oaths to make me stronger, I’m still broken. I… I almost killed Syl not just once, but twice. Did I tell you about that?” Adolin nodded silently. Kal had, with great pain, told Adolin of both times when his bond with his spren had nearly been severed. “If I can nearly lose the one who is closest to me, how can I know that I won’t lose you? How can I know that my brokenness, the thing that sometimes consumes me and causes me to no longer care about anything…” he took a deep breath. “How can I know that won’t destroy you in the way it almost destroyed Syl?” Adolin found himself unexpectedly emotional at the earnest questions. He didn’t have the kinds of answers Kal probably wanted, but he did know that he wouldn’t leave his boyfriend as easily as Kal seemed to think. He reached down and took both of Kaladin’s hands in his own.

“How long have you known me, Kal?” He asked quietly. Kaladin blinked, clearly not expecting this angle.

“Since the Tower,” Kal answered slowly, “so more than three years?”

“More than three years,” Adolin confirmed. “Have I ever let you down during that time?”

“No, but -” Kal began.

“Have I ever shied away from you, even when you were at your worst?” Adolin interrupted.

“No, but -”

“Have I ever turned my back on you, Kal?”

“No, but -”

“Have I ever left you alone when you clearly weren’t fine, even when you insisted that you were? Have I ever shown any signs of being destroyed by your struggles?”

“No,” Kaladin said slowly, “but…”

“You’re looking for reasons for this to be impossible, Kal,” Adolin said gently. Kaladin winced.

“What else can I do? I’m always convinced that something I do, something I say, the way I think, or something else about me will push you away. Isn’t it better to prepare myself for the worst rather than getting caught off guard by it?” With difficulty, Adolin kept the pain he felt at that last statement from showing. By this time, he had learned that Kaladin didn’t like seeing pity from Adolin when he was like this. In stead, Adolin tightened his grip on Kaladin’s hands and leaned closer to him.

“If nothing about you has pushed me away or destroyed me by this point,” Adolin whispered, his face just inches from Kaladin’s own, “what could possibly change that now?”

“I don’t know,” Kaladin said, “but there must be something. Nothing good ever lasts for me.” In stead of disputing Kal’s latest argument with words, Adolin kissed him. Kaladin tensed, then slowly relaxed into the kiss, his lips softening under Adolin’s own. When Adolin lifted his head a few moments later, a new voice spoke.

“Don’t forget the words you spoke, Kaladin,” Syl said. Adolin glanced to the side, where he saw her sitting on his desk. “Strength before weakness, remember?” Kal sighed ruefully.

“I remember,” he whispered. He sat up, facing Adolin on the bed. They locked gazes for a timeless moment, then Kaladin leaned forward, his lips meeting Adolin’s own in another kiss. Adolin pulled him closer, breathing in his boyfriend’s familiar scent as their kiss deepened. He felt Kal’s arms circle around his waist, holding him close with a desperate intensity. Kaladin pulled his head back a moment later, but didn’t relax his embrace. He looked into Adolin’s eyes, showing a rare vulnerability. “Do you mean it, Adolin?” He asked. There was a note of… desperation to his voice. Adolin thought he could count on one hand the number of times Kal had allowed himself to show just how much he needed Adolin. “Do you mean it when you say that you won’t leave me? Do you mean it when you say that… that you love me?” Adolin held Kal’s eyes without flinching.

“I do,” he said simply. Kaladin let out a breath and seemed to let go of some of his tension as he rested his head on Adolin’s shoulder. Adolin reached up and gently ran his fingers through that long, dark, soft hair he loved so much. Kal let out a soft hum of pleasure as Adolin continued stroking his hair. “You should go back to sleep,” Adolin said eventually. Kaladin’s arms tightened around him briefly.

“I’ll…” he hesitated, seeming self-conscious. “I’ll sleep better if you don’t let go,” he admitted quietly. Adolin smiled.

“I’ll never let go of you,” he said simply. Kaladin laid back down, letting out another long breath. Adolin laid down with him, shifting his position slightly so their two bodies fit together more naturally. He never released Kal from his arms as the other man drifted back to sleep. 

Adolin fell asleep a few minutes later, knowing that what he’d said was true.

He’d never let Kaladin go. Never in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes Adolin! Give Kaladin those sweet hugs, kisses, and unconditional love!  
> I hope y’all like this. Please let me know if I’m being too cheesy or shallow or whatever.


	3. Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RoW spoilers!
> 
> Kaladin finds out that Dalinar has fallen ill, and gives him a medical examination. Dalinar has a conversation with the Stormfather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be spoilers!
> 
> CW: sickness, brief discussion of bodily functions. Let me know if I forgot an important CW.
> 
> This chapter contains some references to deeper aspects of the Cosmere, and also less Kadolin. I’m sorry for that, but things are finally getting more interesting. I hope y’all enjoy :)

Adolin woke a few hours later to find that early morning light was seeping into his room through its large, east facing window. Kaladin was still fast asleep next to him, snuggled close and completely relaxed. Adolin smiled fondly at the other man. It seemed that Kaladin relaxed so rarely, even in sleep, that he almost looked like an entirely different person when all the tension was gone from his body and features. He looked… not exactly younger, but more innocent when deeply asleep as he now was. Adolin pulled his boyfriend close, basking in both his warmth and the knowledge that Kal was finally getting the rest he’d needed so badly. Adolin allowed himself to relish this feeling for several endless minutes, then placed a light kiss on the top of Kal’s head. He gently let go and sat up. He made sure to move as smoothly and quietly as possible, since Kal was a ridiculously light sleeper. After everything he’s been through, Adolin thought to himself, can I really blame him for sleeping so lightly? Adolin quietly changed into fresh clothing for the day, then left the room to find breakfast for Kaladin and himself. He’d never heard Shallan return for the night, so he assumed that she’d been out exploring, seeking for information, or some other equally Shallan-like pursuit. He just hoped that she’d found somewhere safe to spend the night. Adolin decided to get breakfast from one of the food stalls on the ground level of the tower. 

With the sickness currently raging through Urithiru’s population, certain precautions had been put in place to minimize contact and risk of spreading the disease. One of these precautions was a mandate that everyone leaving their rooms should wear a cloth covering over their faces. The surgeons, doctors, Edgedancers, Truthwatchers, and everyone else who knew more about this than Adolin claimed that even this simple addition would make a huge difference in the rate of contagion. Indeed, Kaladin had told him that things had been slowly improving since the mandates had been announced. The clinics were still overwhelmed by patients, however, even with the Edgedancers and Truthwatchers to help. The number of radiants belonging to both orders was far too limited to deal with anything other than the absolute worst cases, so Kaladin and everyone else working in the clinics still had their hands full.

Another complicating factor was the fact that this disease seemed to be oddly resistant to radiants’ use of stormlight. A radiant had a higher chance of pulling through the sickness, even if it was very bad, but even they had begun to be affected by the disease. Adolin knew that Shallan, Jasnah, Navani, and many of the other scholars in the tower had theories about why this might be, but he couldn’t understand them. All he knew was that no one he loved was safe, and that terrified him more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

Adolin shook his head, ridding his mind of those thoughts, as he placed a cloth covering over his mouth and nose. The color of the cloth matched his current outfit, of course. He wasn’t about to leave his rooms without looking his best. 

As he walked through the halls of Urithiru, he was once again struck by their unusual emptiness. Part of that could be explained away by the still early hour, but there were also deeper contributing factors. Not only were they still at war, reducing the tower’s population by necessity of sending out troops, scribes, and so-forth, but people were reluctant to leave their rooms unless absolutely necessary, for fear of getting sick. On top of that, there were the deaths the sickness had caused. Kaladin was always reluctant to speak of those, but from what he had told Adolin, added to Shallan’s information and Adolin’s own knowledge as Kholin Highprince, the figures weren’t encouraging. Still, he had to find hope somewhere. The rate of infection did seem to be slowing lately, and Adolin chose to interpret that as a good sign. Kaladin was more hesitant, of course, but Adolin had to believe that it would get better. If it didn’t, they would probably be crushed, even without the help of the Fused and Odium’s forces.

Adolin shook his head again. He didn’t want such heavy thoughts taking over his mind this early in the morning. He chose to observe the trickle of people around him in stead. He looked at their hair, their eyes, their skin, and their clothing, judging how well each of those matched. Some looked as if they were still trying to look presentable, while others had obviously stopped caring about that. He shook his head as one darkeyed woman passed. That shade of blue did not fit her at all. He supposed that fashion was the last thing on many of these people’s minds, but still! People needed to have standards. Adolin smiled to himself at that thought. Kal would call me a spoiled princeling if he knew what I was thinking right now. That thought only made Adolin’s smile widen.

A few minutes later, Adolin reached the food stall he’d had in mind. The line ahead of him was short, so it wasn’t long until he’d ordered food for Kal and himself. A short time later, he carried two hot plates back to their rooms. 

Thankfully, Kal was still asleep when Adolin returned. He set the plates on two of the heating fabrials his aunt Navani had provided. Those would keep the food warm until Kal woke up. Adolin knew he could eat alone, but he always enjoyed the chance to eat with his boyfriend whenever the opportunity presented itself. In the meantime, Shallan had translated some of the more important matters related to the princedom into glyphs for Adolin to check over. Sighing, he sat at his desk and settled to the boring, yet necessary task.

A full three hours later, Adolin finally heard Kaladin stir. He looked toward the bed just in time to see Kal’s eyes blink open drowsily. The other man tensed for a moment, clearly getting his bearings, then relaxed again. He stretched and yawned, then his eyes focused on Adolin.

“What time is it?” He asked fuzzily.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Adolin answered. “I got us both breakfast.” Kal glanced toward the window, then sat up abruptly, looking suddenly tense and fully awake.

“It’s too late,” he said, a hint of panic in his voice. “I need to -”

“You need to eat, Kaladin,” Adolin interrupted firmly. Kal glared at him.

“I slept too long. I need to -”

“You need to eat,” Adolin said again, overriding Kal’s objections. Kal looked to the side suddenly. Syl must have been saying something to him, because he glowered, then slowly nodded.

“I know,” he quietly said with a sigh. “I will.” Adolin looked at him questioningly. Kal scowled. “She’s reminding me of a promise I made yesterday.”

“And that is?” Kal hesitated.

“I promised that I would start taking better care of myself again,” he admitted.

“Good!” Adolin said with a broad smile. Kal gave him a suffering look, but then stood up and approached Adolin. He laid a hesitant hand on Adolin’s shoulder. Adolin reached up and placed a hand on Kal’s own. Neither of them needed to say anything. The message was clear. Kal was grateful for Adolin’s reminder that he look after himself, and Adolin was glad to help. He smiled up at Kal, then stood. “I’ll grab our plates.” Kal nodded, removing his hand from Adolin’s shoulder.

Adolin returned a moment later, carrying their still warm plates of food. Kaladin dragged the chair he had sat in the previous day to the desk as Adolin sat their plates on its surface. He walked over to his pitchers of wine, pouring an orange for both Kal and himself. He carried the cups over as Kaladin settled himself in his chair. Kal accepted his cup with a nod of thanks, then Adolin seated himself.

They ate in silence for a time. Finally, Adolin spoke. “How do you feel this morning, Kal?” The other man shrugged.

“Fine, I guess.”

“Is that all?” Kal glanced over, frowning.

“What else do you want me to say?”

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about how you truly feel.” Kal seemed to actually think about that before responding.

“I do feel better today,” he admitted. “Sleep helped, and this,” he gestured toward the plates of food, “helps as well. Things still aren’t as good as they could be, but…” he took a breath, “I’m better than I was yesterday.”

“Good,” Adolin said quietly, reaching over to rest a hand on Kal’s right arm for a moment. They finished their meals in silence. Adolin took simple pleasure from Kal’s company, and Kal himself seemed to be allowing himself to enjoy the moment as well. Finally, they both finished their meals. Before Kaladin could object, Adolin took both of their plates and cups and washed them himself. He knew that he had servants who could do such things, but he liked doing them himself, especially when Kaladin was involved. 

He returned to the room to find Kal stretching in preparation for his morning exercises, his hair now up in a tail. Adolin settled in beside him, also beginning some stretches. This was a routine they shared together on mornings when they were both in their rooms. Neither of them spoke as they went through the familiar motions. Rather, they continued the stretches and exercises in tandem, gradually increasing their speed until a light layer of sweat covered them both. Although Kal was a surgeon now, he’d never let his physical fitness wain. Adolin knew the other man had complex reasons for maintaining his strength. Adolin still enjoyed sharing these moments with his boyfriend whenever they presented themselves. They finished the first sequence together, breathing deeply. Adolin knew that Kal could have taken in stormlight to increase his endurance, but he also knew that Kaladin wouldn’t do so. Not for this. Kal seemed to approach his daily regimen with a kind of reverence that he almost never showed in other aspects of his life. The only other things that Kaladin seemed to view as more important, more… sacred, were his bond with Syl, his drive to protect, his ability to fly freely through the skies, and his relationship with Adolin. Every time Adolin thought of this fact, he felt almost giddy. How had he become so important to someone like Kaladin Stormblessed? No matter how it had happened, Adolin was thankful to the Almighty, or whatever God was out there to receive his thanks, that Kaladin had entered his life. 

Before they could move on to the next sequence of exercises, a knock came at the door to their suite.

“Come,” Adolin called. The door opened, and Renarin entered. He blushed when he saw Kaladin and Adolin both covered in sweat.

“Um,” he said, fidgeting, “is this a bad time? Am I intruding?” Adolin quickly shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow and smiling in a way that he hoped would put his brother at ease.

“You’re not intruding, Renarin.” His brother seemed to relax somewhat at that.

“Oh… Um…” He seemed to take a moment, probably to remember why he had come in the first place. “Yes,” he said, more confident now. He didn’t meet his or Kal’s eyes, but that was just Renarin’s way. “High Marshal… I mean… Kaladin, I think my father is sick.” Kaladin immediately stood up straight at that, losing any sense of relaxation he may have gained from the morning’s exercise.

“What do you mean?” He said sharply. Renarin cringed slightly. Even after all the time he’d spent with Kaladin and the other members of Bridge Four, he’d never quite lost his tendency to draw back from raised voices or unexpected loud noises. Kaladin, Heralds bless him, seemed to notice Renarin’s discomfort, because his voice was softer when he next spoke. “Tell me what’s happening, if you would.” Renarin took a quick, calming breath before he answered.

“It’s father. Something is… wrong with him. He’s… coughing and weak, but he still insists that he’s alright. I um… I think he has a fever.”

“Storming damnation,” Kaladin cursed. He was definitely in full surgeon mode now, all hints of relaxation and comfort in familiarity swallowed up in the responsibilities he’d placed upon himself. “Take me to him.” Renarin nodded. Before Kal walked away, Adolin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Let me come with you,” he said quietly. Kal hesitated, then acquiesced.

“If your father really is sick,” he said very softly, “this won’t be good.” Kal’s eyebrows furrowed with worry, and Adolin hated that there was nothing he could do to help.

“I’m coming anyway,” he said with conviction. Kal gave a sharp nod.

“What are you waiting on?” He said to Renarin, a bark in his voice that reflected the military commander he had once been. Renarin jumped, then quickly began leading the way to Dalinar’s quarters.

***************

Kelek’s breath, Kaladin thought to himself as he and Adolin left their suite, donning their face masks, Kaladin grabbing his bag of medical supplies on the way. How in damnation did this happen? Dalinar said he was being careful. Kaladin thought back to each time he’d seen his former commander over the past two weeks. Had he ever seen Dalinar without a masK? Had Dalinar ever forgotten to wash his hands? Had he been in close proximity to someone who was sick? Kaladin grimaced at that last thought. Of course Dalinar had been in contact with the sick. He often dropped by the clinics to check in on his people. Still, Dalinar had been careful, or so Kaladin had thought. Apparently he wasn’t careful enough. Stormfather take that man. Kaladin fretted silently all the way to Dalinar’s quarters. Adolin tried to draw him into conversation a few times, but Kaladin only grunted or gave one or two word responses. How bad was Dalinar’s condition? Why hadn’t he just gone to one of the clinics? What did Renarin expect of Kaladin? If Renarin’s surge of progression wasn’t enough to rid Dalinar of the disease, what on Roshar could Kaladin do? Kaladin scowled as they reached Dalinar’s rooms. Renarin stopped and raised a hand as if to knock, but Kaladin pushed past him and unceremoniously opened the door. 

“Renarin,” a voice called from a room to the right, “what have I told you about propriety? Always knock before,” the voice cut off in a burst of wracking coughs, “before entering.”

“Ishar’s soul,” Kaladin muttered under his breath, cold. That cough sounded bad. Dalinar had to have been hiding his symptoms for a few days at least for the cough to be this bad. Speaking louder, he said, “It’s not just Renarin, sir.” More coughing.

“I told him not to worry. This is only a passing ailment.”

“We’ll see about that,” Kaladin grumbled to Adolin. Adolin was pale with worry, but managed to give Kaladin a strained smile. Adolin’s mask hid most of his expression, but Kaladin could see the skin around the Highprince’s eyes crinkle as he smiled. Kaladin could also see Adolin’s concern in the tight line between his eyebrows. Kaladin patted him on the shoulder as they walked toward the room from which Dalinar’s voice had been emanating. 

When they entered the dimly lit room, Kaladin’s eyes immediately went to the bed where Dalinar sat, propped up by several pillows. The older man looked weak and feverish, though Kaladin could tell he was trying to hide it. Kaladin knew Dalinar well enough to be able to see through the deception. Mentally cursing again, Kaladin walked into the privy, washed his hands, then rushed to Dalinar’s side.

“You really didn’t need to come here, son,” Dalinar said quietly to Kaladin. Kaladin gave his former commander a flat look that he knew would be mostly disguised by his cloth mask. Dalinar must have been able to make out enough of the expression for Kaladin’s point to come across, however, because he sighed. At least, he attempted to sigh. His exhalation was interrupted by a third bout of coughing. As Dalinar coughed, Kaladin took a pair of gloves out from his medicine bag and put them on. He also removed a stethoscope. As soon as Dalinar’s coughs tapered off, Kaladin placed a hand on Dalinar’s shoulder, immediately growing more concerned when he felt the heat of the other man’s skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Remove your shirt, sir,” he said. Dalinar frowned.

“Can’t you listen to my breathing through my shirt?”

“I could sir, but it’s better if there’s no material in the way.” Dalinar considered, then nodded. Kaladin removed his hand as Dalinar did as asked. As he set his shirt to the side, Adolin approached cautiously. Kaladin immediately waved him back. “Wash your hands first,” he said sharply.

“What?” Adolin sounded confused, but Kaladin didn’t look away from Dalinar to read his expression.

“If you want to get close, wash your hands, then wash them again after you leave. We can’t have you catching this illness.” Please, Almighty, Kaladin half thought, half prayed. Adolin can’t get sick. He hid his worry behind the mask of a surgeon. A moment later, Kaladin heard Adolin retreat. He turned his full focus to Dalinar, feeling the older man’s forehead with the inside of his own wrist. Dalinar definitely had a fever. Kaladin placed the stethoscope in the center of the older man’s chest. “Take a deep breath for me,” he said, unconsciously adopting his surgeon’s voice. It was much like his usual voice, just calmer. More controlled. 

Kaladin breathed slowly and evenly as his father had taught him so long ago, steadying his trembling hands. It was so easy to appear calm, composed, and professional on the outside, even when he felt the exact opposite of those things on the inside. 

Dalinar breathed, and Kaladin listened carefully. He moved the stethoscope to various points on Dalinar’s chest, each time repeating his request for the other man to breathe deeply. Kaladin repeated the process, but listening to certain areas of Dalinar’s back this time. What Kaladin heard only increased his anxiety, but he kept his own breathing slow and steady. Worry later, he reminded himself. Be a surgeon now. Next, Kaladin felt around Dalinar’s neck, searching for signs of swelling which might indicate infection. Finally, Kaladin removed a diamond mark from his pouch and used it to give light so he could check Dalinar’s eyes and throat. At last, he stepped back and nodded to Dalinar’s shirt.

“You can put that back on sir,” he said as he put away his sphere. Dalinar slowly did so.

“Well? What are your thoughts?” Kaladin took a long breath, once again reminding himself to stay steady. This never got easier. Each time he made this examination, he only felt more responsibilities piling on top of him. Knowing that he’d just needed to examine Dalinar, someone he was close to, someone who should have been safe, someone he needed to protect… That was… No, Kaladin interrupted himself. You’re a surgeon at the moment. Answer the question. Worry later.

“You’re definitely sick sir,” Kaladin said aloud. He heard an intake of breath from either Adolin or Renarin. Kaladin had nearly forgotten that the Kholin sons were still in the room. He glanced toward them. Renarin was fidgeting with his puzzle box, staring at the floor with his eyebrows furrowed. Adolin stood next to his brother, staring at his father with unreadable eyes.

“I knew that, Kaladin,” Dalinar said impatiently. Then why did you tell Renarin not to worry? Kaladin thought. “Is it the same sickness that’s been going around, or is it something different?”

Another calming breath.

“It’s the same illness,” Kaladin said, hoping the others couldn’t hear how dry his throat had become. He forcibly pushed down more distracting thoughts. “Now sir, I need to ask you some questions.” Dalinar nodded. He’s taking this well, Kaladin thought. He couldn’t decide if he was encouraged or worried by that fact. “When did you start manifesting symptoms?”

“Five days ago,” Dalinar admitted. Kaladin blinked in shock before he caught himself and reassumed his professional facade.

“Have you been in close, extended contact with anyone during that time?”

“Only Navani.”

“Has she shown symptoms yet?”

“No.”

“Have the two of you been following the recommended precautions to prevent spreading the illness to others?” Dalinar nodded.

“We have.” Thank the Stormfather for that, Kaladin thought.

“Has stormlight made any difference in your condition?” Dalinar frowned.

“No,” he said slowly. “It’s the strangest thing. I can still draw in stormlight, and it does help with some things. It takes away any headaches or muscle soreness from coughing, but it doesn’t take away the fever, coughs, or general body aches.” Kaladin nodded to himself. Other radiants had reported similar things.

“I’m guessing regrowth has similar effects?” Dalinar nodded.

“It does.”

“Loss of appetite?”

“Some.”

“Are you still getting enough nutrition?”

“Yes. Navani has been making me eat.” Heralds bless that woman.

“Have you been drinking fluids?”

“Yes.”

“Have there been any notable changes in your urine or stool?” Dalinar’s composure didn’t even waver at that question. Some patients blushed furiously when being asked about that, but it was important.

“Some,” Dalinar said. “I’m urinating more, but that might just be because I’m drinking more fluids than usual. My stool is unusually soft, however.”

“Any nausea?”

“A little, usually right after eating.”

“Delirium?”

“None that I’m aware of.” Kaladin nodded, reaching into his bag of medical supplies again. He took out a few small bottles containing various crushed herbs and set them on the small table next to Dalinar. 

“Drink a pinch of these with a cup of water every six hours,” Kaladin commanded. “If your symptoms haven’t lightened up in the next five days, send for me. If your symptoms get suddenly or noticeably worse, send for me.” He turned toward Renarin. “Would you be willing to spend a few days in these rooms rather than your own?” Renarin blinked, then nodded jerkily, still playing with his box. “If your father gets out of bed for any other reason than to wash himself and use the privy, send for me.” Kaladin saw Renarin’s eyes crinkle with a slight smile, and the younger Kholin son nodded again, a little more confidently. Kaladin looked at Dalinar. “I mean it, sir. You need to stay in bed and rest.”

“For how long?”

“At least another five days or until your symptoms have vanished.” Dalinar frowned and opened his mouth to object. “Sir,” Kaladin interrupted, “what would you say if our positions were reversed?” Dalinar met Kaladin’s eyes, and Kaladin held the other man’s gaze evenly. Finally, Dalinar sighed and nodded. “Good,” Kaladin said. He walked into the privy to wash his hands again, removing his gloves and sticking them in a pocket of his medicine bag to be disposed of later. He walked back into the main room, spotting a cup on a sideboard by the far wall. Kaladin retrieved it, returned to the privy, then emerged with the cup full of water. He brought the cup over to Dalinar. “Don’t forget to take your medicine, sir.” Dalinar nodded.

“Thank you son.” Kaladin nodded back, allowing himself to relax a little. Dalinar was okay. He was going to be okay.

“You’re welcome sir.” As he left the room with Adolin (Renarin had decided to stay behind to watch over Dalinar until Navani returned from wherever she had gone), Kaladin looked back to see Dalinar drop a pinch of herbs into his water, swirl it, then drink the entire thing at once. He let out a relieved breath. Dalinar is going to be okay, he thought again.

***************

Dalinar drank down his cup full of water and bitter herbs, watching as Kaladin and Adolin departed. He felt… bemused at having been so thoroughly examined by Kaladin, a man who he, even now, still thought of as more of a soldier than a surgeon. Still, he thought to himself, he has been doing better lately. Even with the pressures put on Kaladin by this outbreak, Dalinar hadn’t noticed the same empty stare, unresponsiveness, and distance that Kaladin had shown Around the time when Dalinar had finally dismissed the Windrunner from his duties as High-martial. Kaladin had exhibited his usual intensity, focus, and skill when examining Dalinar. He knew the young man well enough to have been able to spot his anxiety during the examination, although he had hidden it well. Even so, Kaladin seemed to be in a better place than he had been in a long time. Five days of rest? The king of Urithiru thought to himself, dissatisfied. Why so long? The Stormfather rumbled within his mind.

The son of Tanavast is wise to restrict you for the time being. Without these oaths to keep, you would be restless. Dalinar wanted to argue, but knew, deep down, that it would be pointless. The spren was right, after all.

“You’re right,” Dalinar admitted quietly. “I still dislike it.”

I am aware of this. Did the Stormfather sound… amused. You have more in common with the Windrunner than you are willing to admit. Dalinar sighed, then began coughing again. He’d managed to keep most of his coughing under control during Kaladin’s examination, but the repressed coughs seemed to be returning with a vengeance now that he was alone. His vision swam, and he reflexively drew in stormlight. As usual, the light took away his lightheadedness and immediate pains caused by the violent convulsions, but it didn’t cleanse the sickness from his body. Renarin’s concerned face poked into his room a moment later.

“Are you well, father?” Dalinar nodded, unable to completely hide the extent of his weakness from his youngest son.

“I am well, son,” he said, his voice somewhat weaker than usual. Renarin gave him a concerned look.

“Do I need to get… Kaladin?” Even after all this time, Renarin still tended to refer to the Windrunner by his old military rank in times of stress. Dalinar shook his head.

“This isn’t anything unusual for me. Allow Kaladin to give his attention to those who truly need it.” Renarin frowned, but nodded and withdrew. 

“Stormfather,” Dalinar whispered after his youngest son had left, “do you know why stormlight doesn’t seem to affect this illness in the way it should?” The spren rumbled again, sounding more uncertain this time.

You have asked me of this before, but I have considered it more deeply since you fell ill. There are only a few conclusions which make sense to me.

“And those are?”

The most likely explanation is that this illness is somehow of Odium, the Stormfather explained. If voidlight is somehow involved in the origins of this sickness, it only makes sense that the illness would be resistant to stormlight and its healing abilities. Think of how the radiants were affected when the Fused took Urithiru. Dalinar nodded slowly.

“The two powers are incompatible,” he said thoughtfully. He still didn’t fully understand the discoveries that Navani had made during the days of the Fused’s occupation of the tower, but he had been able to grasp some things. “They’re not complete opposites, however. Still, they can’t work together on their own.”

Yes, said the Stormfather. That would explain a great number of things in regards to this disease.

“Why can’t the sibling help?”

This would be such a small overall expenditure of voidlight that it could most likely slip past the defenses even of the Sibling. They do have incredible control over this tower, however it is not absolute. If you wish to know more, I recommend asking your wife. Dalinar frowned thoughtfully.

“I may just do that. Thank you for answering.” The Stormfather rumbled, but otherwise didn’t respond. A few moments later, Dalinar said, “You said you had a few ideas about why stormlight doesn’t work on this sickness. You only gave one. What are your other thoughts?” The ancient spren waited so long to answer that Dalinar was sure that his question had been ignored. Finally, however, he spoke.

As I said, I believe that voidlight was most likely used to influence the development of this illness. There is also a chance, slight but not impossible, that it could have developed naturally. I do not know much about the ways that sicknesses change over time, but it does seem possible that a previously benign illness could have changed to the point where it barely resembles what it once was. If it is foreign enough to the bodies of radiants, then stormlight will only have a limited effect on it. Dalinar felt a chill that was completely unrelated to his fever.

“And did you have any other speculations?” Again, the Stormfather took his time before responding.

I have spoken of investiture and spiritwebs to you before?

“You have,” Dalinar confirmed, recalling barely intelligible conversations he’d had with the spren in recent times. When the Stormfather next spoke, he sounded… uncertain.

There is a chance, faint but terrible, that neither of the possibilities I have presented to you are correct. It could be that some of the remaining investiture from Honor’s splintering could have connected itself to previously harmless forces which once only transmitted minor illnesses.

“Do you mean rotspren or plaguespren?”

Yes and no, the Stormfather said hesitantly. I am unsure of how to explain these things to you. Even your best medics know little of this area. Dalinar felt his brow crease in thought. He desperately wanted to push his spren for more details, but knew it wouldn’t yield satisfying results.

“So you think that this investiture might be changing things somehow?”

Yes. If this is the case, then the spiritual aspect of the forces driving the illness will have been changed. If that change is profound enough, then it is possible that stormlight could no longer neutralize the effects as easily as it once did. Dalinar rubbed his chin, deeply concerned by this line of reasoning.

“For all of our sakes,” he whispered, “I hope that the second suggestion you gave is the correct one.”

As do I, the Stormfather said, surprising Dalinar with his frankness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not a doctor, so don’t come at me for any inaccuracies in Kal’s examination and questions. Let me know what y’all thought of this chapter :)

**Author's Note:**

> So can y’all tell that Covid was an inspiring factor for this?  
> Let me know if you liked this, and if you want me to do better with anything. I’m not very experienced with writing. :)


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